


Tease

by silver_etoile



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23631490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_etoile/pseuds/silver_etoile
Summary: The foot slides up his thigh and Arthur’s eyes meet Merlin’s across the table instead, the briefest smirk on his face as he goes back to pushing eggs around his plate.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 298





	Tease

**Author's Note:**

> Idk. I just wanted to. Been rewatching Merlin again.

“Hm, stocks are up,” Uther mutters over his coffee, reading through emails on his phone.

That isn’t what makes Arthur look up from his plate--it’s the foot bumping into his calf, and he opens his mouth to reprimand Morgana next to him, to shoot her a look that says he doesn’t give a fuck about the stock market or whatever Uther is muttering about this morning, but Morgana is absorbed in her own phone, typing something rapidly as though she isn’t even listening. She probably isn’t.

The foot slides up his thigh and Arthur’s eyes meet Merlin’s across the table instead, the briefest smirk on his face as he goes back to pushing eggs around his plate.

A quick glance at Uther confirms Uther is oblivious to Merlin’s foot making its way up Arthur’s leg, sliding along his thigh. It’s a second of panic, as though it’s obvious to everyone in the room, a question he shoots at Merlin across the table as his heart flutters into his throat.

No one so much as glances at them, absorbed in their respective phones, and Arthur definitely doesn’t spread his legs, slumping down just a tiny bit to let Merlin’s foot reach his crotch. He shouldn’t. He definitely shouldn’t but he does.

Merlin’s only staying the weekend while his parents are gone on holiday--Arthur’s more surprised Uther actually lets his employees take vacations. He’s less surprised that Hunith doesn’t trust her son, who is almost eighteen, to stay alone for a couple days.

That might be why no one seems to find it odd that Arthur shifts in his chair, jerks slightly as Merlin’s foot presses down, too gentle, against his rising dick, barely concealed under the table. Arthur tries not to jump, eyes darting to Uther. Taking a breath, Arthur shoots Merlin a look, as if he isn’t letting this happen, isn’t enjoying the way the heat crawls up his spine as his dad goes on reading emails and Morgana scrolls through Instagram.

“What are you boys up to?” Uther asks, and Arthur’s head shoots up, heart in his throat. He can’t mean--his grip tightens over his fork as Merlin’s foot pauses, toes pressing down on Arthur’s cock straining in his jeans. Arthur opens his mouth but no sound comes out.

“It’s a nice day.” Merlin fills the silence, glancing at Arthur, as though he can’t feel how hard Arthur is getting, as if he doesn’t press his foot down, and Arthur barely hides his inhale as blood pulses in his dick, against his better judgement. “I thought maybe we’d go for a swim.”

Fucking Merlin, Arthur thinks, gritting his teeth as Uther nods, glancing out the window at the mid-morning sun. 

Only Merlin can do this to him, would be so bold to do it right in front of Uther, right in front of Morgana, who would have an absolute field day if she knew what was going on. Blackmail for years flits through Arthur’s mind, and he forces himself to take a calming breath. He doesn’t shove Merlin’s foot away, though, meeting his gaze.

“We could do that,” he agrees, voice as level as he can manage.

It isn’t as if he and Merlin didn’t spend all last night with Arthur covering Merlin’s mouth so he wouldn’t wake the whole house with the sounds he was making, sucking bruises into his hips where no one would see them, sliding his fingers one by one inside Merlin until he had almost his whole hand inside, until Merlin was begging to come, words gasped in his ear.

But now it’s Merlin with Arthur on edge, toes curling into the rug, jaw clenched as Merlin goes on poking at his brunch.

He doesn’t know if it’s that they’re sitting at the table, in front of everyone, that if Morgana dropped a fork, she’d lean over and see the tenting in Arthur’s jeans, Merlin’s foot massaging him to complete hardness. Or maybe it’s just that Merlin still has that stupid smirk even as he stares at his plate, like he knows exactly what Arthur is thinking. But he lets it happen.

It does things to him that Arthur doesn’t like to think about, makes his stomach curl far beyond just getting turned on in a way he shouldn’t be.

It’s payback, Arthur thinks, for last week when his dad had come home unexpectedly early and they’d never gotten to finish that blowjob. Or maybe Merlin’s just a little shit. That’s entirely possible as well.

“You’re so red, Arthur,” Morgana says with a disapproving frown. “I told you you’re allergic to peppers.”

“I am not,” he forces himself to say, catching the way Merlin glances at him, knowing, and he bites his lip as Merlin’s foot presses against his dick, catching it at just the right angle to send a bolt of heat up his spine. 

_Fuck_.

He barely stops his gasp, digging his fingers into his thigh. He can’t do this here, not with Uther pouring himself more coffee, Morgana rolling her eyes at him. He can’t, even though he’s halfway sure Merlin will try.

“I’m done,” he says abruptly, shoving his chair back from the table, Merlin’s foot falling to the floor. He’s lucky everyone is too absorbed in their phones to notice the way he shuffles up, turns sharply to hide the unmistakable hard-on. Fucking Merlin.

*

Arthur still isn’t sure how it started--he’s known Merlin for years, known he was a little shit who could never keep quiet in class, a complete idiot who tripped over his own feet and had ears too big for his head, but he also had soft pink lips, dark alluring eyes that Arthur caught watching him one too many times over the years.

There is no explanation for the way mutual masterbation to porn, porn Arthur wasn’t all that interested in in the first place, turned into far more looking at Merlin’s dick than the videos, turned into Merlin sucking him off one afternoon, Arthur coming so hard in his mouth he decided he never wanted to do it any other way.

But that also means Arthur is stuck with Merlin and his knowing smile as Merlin swims over to him in the pool, brushing aside a leaf in the water, somehow trapping Arthur up against the wall. Water sloshes over the side as Merlin drifts to a stop in front of him, skin glistening in the sunlight peeking through the tall trees behind the pool. Arthur doesn’t let his gaze follow the drop of water sliding down Merlin’s sharp collarbone.

“Do you want to get caught?” he asks as Merlin reaches for the pool edge. It’s not deep enough to need to hold on, but that doesn’t stop Merlin. His hand is inches from Arthur’s arm, and Arthur can feel the hairs standing up. Static electricity, he tells himself, not that he’s still thinking about breakfast, about how he locked himself in the bathroom until his cock had finally gone down.

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” Merlin says, and Arthur has to snort.

“You tell everyone everything,” he says because it’s true. He had immediately told Gwaine when Arthur had struck out with Vivian last year, had told Gwen that Lance had a huge crush on her, had admitted he still slept with stuffed animals without even prompting.

“Big secrets,” Merlin amends, jerking his shoulder. He pauses, though, eyes sliding down Arthur’s chest.

“You almost told everyone this morning,” Arthur says, licking his lips slowly, pressure welling up in his chest as Merlin floats closer, too close. He wants to be annoyed that Merlin did that, that Merlin got him so hard when all it would take is one slip-up and everyone would know.

“You’re the one who practically bolted from the room,” Merlin says, as though he played no part in Arthur’s abrupt departure. “Not exactly smooth.”

“You had your foot on my di--” Arthur stops short as Merlin’s hand closes around his cock underwater.

“Your what?” Merlin asks, eyebrows rising, a little too satisfied with himself.

“Fuck you,” Arthur says with a quick breath and half a smile because he doesn’t mean it. He never means it nowadays, not since he discovered just how much Merlin is willing to do. 

Arthur doesn’t glare. He doesn’t glare because, fuck, it feels good, Merlin’s long, slim fingers palming him through the slippery fabric of his swim shorts.

Arthur isn’t sure what has made Merlin so bold today. Usually, Arthur is the one to shove him against the wall, to suck him off in the locker room at school, a sharp ear open for anyone coming. But here, at his house, it’s Merlin with his hand pressing into Arthur’s dick, making him swallow and glance back at the wall of windows looking right into the living room.

“What’s gotten into you?” he manages to ask through the haze caused by Merlin fisting his cock through his shorts, rough and smooth all at the same time, and Arthur feels his stomach bottom out as the idea of fucking Merlin right there crosses his mind. 

It wouldn’t take much to get Merlin’s shorts around his ankles, the water supporting his weight, sharp thrusts and sloshing water between them. 

“What do you think of getting off right here?” Merlin asks instead of answering the question, and Arthur has to pause, reel himself in, exhale a huff into Merlin’s rapidly-drying hair, sticking up in weird places.

“I think my dad likes to read the Sunday paper in that chair right there,” he says, jerking his head at the leather chair visible through the window. The sun hasn’t risen quite enough to clear the trees, but Arthur knows when it does, his dad will sit in the chair, slats of light falling over the wood floor, scratching the ears of their old decrepit cat that still follows him around.

Merlin doesn’t glance over Arthur’s shoulder, and he’s close enough that anyone who saw them might think twice about it. Still, Arthur spreads his legs, invites Merlin in despite himself. Maybe he gets off on getting caught too.

It’s that thought that makes him lick his lips, reach for Merlin’s wrist, pull it from his shorts. There’s a momentary question on Merlin’s face, so much that it reminds Arthur that Merlin really is an idiot, an annoyingly hot idiot who lets Arthur sit on his face whenever he wants.

Instead of answering Merlin’s face, Arthur pulls Merlin’s hand back, sliding it under the waistband of his shorts instead.

Merlin’s mouth falls open just barely, as if Arthur can still surprise him, and Arthur bites back his groan as Merlin’s fingers wrap around his cock. Between the smooth water and Merlin’s rough fingerpads, Arthur has to close his eyes, stretch his neck back, let out a breath.

His whole body is hot as Merlin slides his fist down, the water swishing between them, splashing up Merlin’s chest, the flush creeping up his collarbone as if this is enough to turn Merlin on, just from Arthur letting him touch.

“What do you think about an underwater blow job?” Merlin asks a minute later and Arthur huffs out a laugh.

“Even you couldn’t hold your breath for that long.”

“Could try,” Merlin says, and Arthur doesn’t reply, sucking in a sharp breath at Merlin’s thumb dragging over the slit of his cock, too rough even in the softness of the water.

He wants to reach for Merlin, but he doesn’t, keeping his hands firmly on the edges of the pool, knuckles turning white as he lets his mind wander to Merlin’s mouth, lips stretched over his cock, wet and shiny, slick with spit, the sounds Merlin makes when he’s got Arthur’s dick slid halfway down his throat.

Arthur blinks away the image as heat bubbles up in his chest, tension tugging at his stomach, a harsh breath exhaled as Merlin slides dangerously close, close enough that Arthur can let his lips trail under his ear, barely a touch, so tempting to flick his tongue out, lick the chlorine off his skin, suck a deep red bruise on the patch of his skin just behind his ear.

He knows Merlin knows his weakness, how easy it would be to do just that, mouth along Merlin’s jaw as his stomach clenches and he comes, let Merlin turn his head at just the right moment, capture his mouth in a kiss like he always does, like it’s an accident, but they both know it’s anything but.

The patio door swings open with a loud creak, bouncing off the wall, and Merlin springs back, taking the warmth of his body with him, the tightness of his hand leaving Arthur cursing, swallowing quickly, heart pounding in his chest as he turns to find Morgana striding out in a bikini, towel slung over her shoulder.

She tilts her sunglasses down as she reaches the chairs lined up poolside. “Merlin, you should put on sunscreen. You’re as red as Arthur.”

Merlin merely flushes more, the tips of his ears going red, and at least it’s some satisfaction, Arthur thinks as he adjusts his now-hard-yet-again cock under the water.

Rubbing his face, Arthur lets out a breath, not meeting Merlin’s gaze as he pushes away from the side of the pool, drifting to the other end as Morgana settles into the chair. That was too close, and yet not close enough, he thinks, glancing back at Merlin across the pool.

Swallowing down the prickles on his skin, Arthur ducks under the water for a minute, hoping the water will help cool him off, put a damper on how hot he is, how much he’s desperate to get off after two interruptions. He isn’t sure how much more he can take, especially when he swims past Merlin, and Merlin not-so-subtly edges his shorts down, revealing the top of his dick, visible even in the blue swish of the pool.

Arthur breaks the surface behind Merlin, tossing a glance at Morgana as his hand slides up the inside of Merlin’s thigh, over the swell of his ass. Two can play at this game.

He feels Merlin go stiff, sees the way he swallows, lets his gaze slide to Arthur. His ears are still red but not from Morgana this time.

Morgana is lying back, sunglasses perched over her eyes, hands resting gently on her bare stomach, and though she’s probably not watching them, Arthur’s not dumb enough to trust otherwise.

“If almost getting caught makes you horny, you should have just told me,” Arthur murmurs in Merlin’s ear before shoving him away. Merlin flails back, falling into the water with a splash.

Merlin splutters to the surface, hair plastered to his face, his glare only partially annoyed. Arthur knows full well Merlin likes this, likes Arthur getting rough. They always have the best sex when Merlin is annoyed, ready to bite back at Arthur, demand the things he really wants.

But Morgana is right there, sunlight glinting off her shades, leaves rustling in the light breeze as the sun climbs higher. Morgana is right there and his dad is probably in his chair by now, scratching Kilgharrah’s scraggly ears while Kilgharrah’s claws dig into his lap.

“Prat,” Merlin only replies, splashing Arthur as Arthur swims closer again, dragging his fingernails along Merlin’s back, just above the waistline of his shorts, hidden under the water. He sees the way Merlin jerks and smiles, satisfied.

“That’s what you get,” he says, knowing Merlin will get the rest, not daring to say it in front of Morgana.

Merlin doesn’t reply except to watch Arthur with dark eyes, something that makes Arthur’s chest clench in anticipation as he swims away, putting as much water between them as possible.

*

Arthur’s hair is still damp when he heads for his room from the shower, drying the rest with a towel, and somehow not surprised to find Merlin rifling through the papers on his desk.

“Your English essay is terrible,” Merlin says as Arthur shuts the door behind him. It’s not unusual for him and Merlin to be alone in his room--it’s just there are usually far fewer people in the house when they are.

“Don’t remember asking you to read it,” Arthur replies, tossing the towel over the desk chair. He doesn’t care about his essay or that Merlin takes it upon himself to judge his schoolwork. All he cares is that Morgana is still out by the pool and his dad is complaining to the gardener about the roses in the front garden.

Merlin stands by the desk, twisting slightly, as though contemplating the situation as Arthur plugs his phone into the charger and yanks up the covers on his bed. The maid stopped cleaning in here years ago.

“What?” Arthur asks, arching an eyebrow at Merlin still lingering across the room. “Now that there’s no one to see, you’re shy?”

It’s the teasing that will get Merlin to do something, Arthur knows, and it’s what Arthur wants. He wants that confident Merlin from this morning to swagger over, get his hands down Arthur’s boxers without him having to ask.

“Just thinking,” Merlin says finally and Arthur laughs, flopping down on the bed when Merlin doesn’t move.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” He sets his hands behind his head, crossing his ankles and waiting.

Merlin’s fully dressed, in his jeans, a little too raggedy to be purposeful. It isn’t as if Merlin’s family is struggling--Uther pays well enough, but Arthur always thought Merlin preferred to live modestly, with jeans a size too big, shirts he gets at discount stores. It makes Merlin look small even though he’s not. He’s tall, long and lean, with smooth skin, freckles dotting the back of his neck, thick black hair he doesn’t seem to care about.

Arthur knows all the nuances of Merlin’s body, far more now than he did a few months ago. He knows the curve of his collarbone, the dip between his shoulders, how he can count every rib when Merlin is straining not to come, body arched off the mattress. He knows the sharpness of Merlin’s hips, how they feel under his hands when Arthur holds him down, presses inside, breathes in the sweat on his skin, licks up the long line of his neck.

He knows the way Merlin clings to him when he comes, pants into his ear, fingers tight in his hair like he doesn’t want to let go.

Merlin moves finally, crawling on the bed with Arthur, settling over his hips, hands on Arthur’s bare chest, touch burning as Arthur gazes up at him.

They don’t have that much time, and that’s what Arthur is thinking when Merlin slides his fingers over his ribcage, as if trying to memorize them. They don’t have much time, but he doesn’t stop Merlin taking his time, eyes moving down Arthur’s chest, dark and hungry as he reaches his boxers.

“I could call Gwaine if that’ll help get you there,” Arthur says, only halfway joking. He certainly doesn’t want Gwaine to know about this, and even Gwaine would surely be able to tell something was off.

His skin tingles despite the look Merlin shoots him, unimpressed at the suggestion. 

“So much for keeping secrets if you want Gwaine in on this,” he says, but he moves finally, shimmies down Arthur’s hips, leans in and licks all the way up his chest, like it’s a fucking lollipop.

“Shit,” Arthur hears himself breath, so ready to let Merlin do whatever he wants. He’s been ready since this morning, Merlin smirking at him across the table, since Merlin grabbed him in the pool.

Merlin’s mouth lands on his throat next, kissing and sucking his tingling skin, and he better not be leaving a mark, but Arthur doesn’t open his mouth to say so, twining his fingers in Merlin’s messy hair.

It’s Merlin’s hands pushing at his boxers that makes Arthur smile, tilting his chin up, raising his hips for Merlin to shove them over his thighs. Merlin is not as nearly as suave as he wants Arthur to think he is. For all his teasing earlier, he’s just as desperate, just as desperate to get his hands on Arthur, jerk him off, smear pre-come over the tip of his cock.

Arthur glances down, biting his lip as he catches a glimpse of his dick in Merlin’s hand, thick and heavy. He never knew he cared what it looked like until Merlin crawled over him that day in Arthur’s room, the unrealistic moans from the porn still playing on his phone, suddenly mixed with real moans as Arthur’s eyes rolled back in his head.

It looks so good in Merlin’s slim fingers, though, like Merlin knows just what to do. Arthur’s never asked how he knows, doesn’t really want to know.

Merlin spreads his legs, jerking at his zipper one-handed, getting his jeans open, pulling out his hard cock. A thrill spreads through Arthur, from deep in his gut up to his chest as Merlin rolls his hips forward and their pricks slide together.

It’s hot, skin on skin, Merlin’s hand gripping them both, half jerking off, half the soft velvet of Merlin’s dick pressing to Arthur’s.

“Jesus fuck,” Arthur says at the heat stealing down his spine, skin tingly and tight as Merlin’s hand slides down. His head hits the pillow, eyes closed as he focuses on the feeling of Merlin on top of him, Merlin’s mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses down his chest, pausing only to suck on a nipple that makes Arthur groan out loud.

He can’t be loud, though. He doesn’t know who’s in the house, and he stuffs his fist in his mouth instead as Merlin’s mouth reaches his cock.

“Want you to come on my face,” Merlin murmurs against his dick, taking a minute to rub the tip over his cheek, sliding his tongue over every ridge, and Arthur can’t hold back the way he chokes. “In my mouth,” Merlin goes on as though he doesn’t know what this is doing to Arthur, as if he can’t feel the way Arthur’s dick throbs against his tongue, “all over my chest. Then I want you to lick it off.”

Arthur would agree to anything right now, anything Merlin wants him to do because, _fuck_ , he can barely think straight when Merlin spits into his free hand, uses it to slide along his entrance, takes the opportunity to suck his balls into his mouth one by one, drag his tongue over the sensitive skin until Arthur’s whole body feels like it’s vibrating.

They haven’t done this before, or well, Arthur hasn’t, taking a sharp breath at the press of Merlin’s finger. He’s thought about it, watched plenty of porn and even had a moment of complete insanity when he thought about sneaking into Morgana’s room and digging out the dildo she keeps under her bed. He’d managed to snap himself out of that idea before it happened, but he still wondered.

He doesn’t have to wonder with Merlin’s finger sliding inside him. Merlin goes slow, careful, but he doesn’t ask, only pulls back from sucking on Arthur’s dick to look up at Arthur, pauses as Arthur takes in a breath, sharp, tries not to come right then with Merlin’s finger stroking inside him, so much hotter than he imagined.

“Don’t stop,” he manages to say, shoving at Merlin in a completely too desperate way, head buried in Arthur’s thighs in a way Arthur dreams about sometimes, wakes up hard and aching and has to wank off before he can think straight.

He doesn’t miss the way Merlin smiles, almost relieved, but he doesn’t question it, not when Merlin’s got his lips stretched around his cock, a delicious bulge against his cheek, soft and warm and wet as Arthur stretches back, feels the second finger Merlin pushes inside.

It builds, the tension deep in his gut, the heat creeping up his spine, the way Arthur can’t hold back his panted breaths, fingers digging into the sheets, twisting underneath him.

“Fuck, stop, stop,” he says, sharp, reaching for Merlin, hauling him up by his wrists, catching Merlin’s glazed look, confused, turned on, and Arthur rolls them over before Merlin can ask what.

He gets Merlin’s jeans off, on the floor in a whirl of movement, followed by his shirt, leaving Merlin completely bare before him, but there’s no embarrassment. Merlin keeps his gaze steady, licking his lips invitingly as he watches Arthur fumble at the nightstand.

He gets a condom on, the lube smeared over his cock, slick fingers working their way inside Merlin. He gets Merlin’s shaky breath against his shoulder, Merlin’s hands clinging to his neck, legs wrapping around his waist as Arthur pushes inside.

He thinks about this entirely too much these days, getting Merlin on his back, pressing his cock inside him until they’re both shaking from the effort of holding back, determined not to come first, not until Merlin whimpers, bites his bottom lip until there are teeth marks.

It’s not like that today, with Merlin’s fingernails digging into Arthur’s shoulder blades, Merlin’s mouth entirely too close to his neck, hot breath fanning over the skin, the hint of a tongue, drag of lips as Merlin moans, soft.

“ _Arthur,_ ” he breathes, a noise so gentle it makes Arthur’s stomach lurch. 

Gripping Merlin’s thighs, Arthur doesn’t slow down, rolling his hips into him, firm and deep and hard. Merlin’s cock bounces against his stomach with the movement, and Arthur lets Merlin reach for it, smoothing his thumb over the shiny tip.

Licking his lips, Arthur tilts his head back as he feels it, heat pooling in his stomach, the tightness of Merlin around his cock. He could come just like this, has been waiting for this moment all morning, been waiting for that moment when he can just let go, spill hot and sticky inside Merlin, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slides his cock out, tearing off the condom, pulling Merlin’s hips in flush, shoving away his hand as he drags their pricks together.

It’s only a few strokes before Arthur is coming, his whole chest swelling, hips jerking, watching come paint Merlin’s stomach, a sticky mess that somehow turns him on even more. Merlin’s head is tilted back, exposing the tempting line of his neck, his groan too loud as Arthur’s hand squeezes their cocks together and he comes too.

Arthur doesn’t reprimand him for being loud, not this time, not when he can barely think.

Falling onto the bed, he lets out a long breath, wiping sweat off his brow, listening to Merlin’s heavy breathing.

“Fuck,” Merlin mutters and Arthur smiles to himself. “You didn’t lick it off.”

“Next time,” Arthur says lazily, but he reaches over, smearing the come on Merlin’s stomach just for good measure. They’re going to have to shower again.

“Next time,” Merlin repeats as though it’s a promise, and maybe it is, if Arthur thinks about it a little more.

“Next time, I’m gonna give you a hand job under the table at your mum’s,” he says, knowing full well Merlin turns to glare at him. “Payback.”

“You liked it,” Merlin says instead, and Arthur hums softly, not quite refuting the statement. It’s another minute before Merlin sighs. “I should get dressed before Morgana barges in.”

“Hey,” Arthur says before Merlin can roll off the bed, leaning into him, catching him off-guard with a kiss, but Merlin melts into it, opening his mouth to Arthur’s, tongue sliding against his as Arthur sucks on his lip.

“What was that for?” Merlin asks because they don’t really do that, not unless you count the ‘accidental’ kisses Arthur thinks are definitely not an accident on Merlin’s part.

Arthur shrugs, fingers drifting down Merlin’s cheek. “Just wanted to.”

Merlin smiles after a second, and Arthur lays back down as Merlin goes about getting dressed again. Sighing, he sets his hands behind his head and this time, Arthur lets his gaze linger on Merlin, a smile he doesn’t bite back appearing when Merlin glances back.  


“You better get dressed if you want this to stay a secret.”

“Now you care,” Arthur teases, but he climbs up finally and grabs the towel off the chair, cleaning up. Merlin doesn’t reply except to throw Arthur’s boxers at him, and Arthur only laughs as they hit him in the face.

*

FIN.


End file.
